Behind the Mask of America
by HowAmISupposedToChoose
Summary: We all the see happy-go-lucky side of America, but what is he like when no ones around. He gets hurt by England when he says something under stress and breaks. Depressed!America. USUK My first ff! Please enjoy.
1. Broken

Hello everybody and welcome to my first fanfic! I hope you guys enjoy this, and here are a couple things I would like to say: 1. I would REALLY love critiques! They make the story better for you and me! So critique as hardly as you wish. 2. Through my work, I tend to make emotion shine more. So I would love to see how I'm doing with that, or what I'm doing right, or how you guys feel when reading this!

Alright, this will probably only have a couple chapters, unless I feel like going further, but enjoy!

**EDIT: PLEASE READ: 11/11/12 Hi again. Okay so I totally rewrote this after not feeling very satified with the first version. I changed some things and I think it would be important to read this again? I have the old one here: Reneehereee dot! tumblr dot! com / stuff . so It would be really awesome for you guys to tell me what stuff looks better on each one or something? PLEase? Thanks for the critiques! They really motivate me and I hope you can see a change? **And sorry I was out of power and stuff from sandy. And I've been really busy lately because of school and someone in my family passed away. Thanks for reading 3 (more than a thousand words longer than the last one and like 2 pages longer!)

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Another wrapper was tossed into the pile, knocking others off of the table and onto the floor. In the kitchen he sat, the young big nation, America. He sat slouched over a bit, legs spread out; he took a bite of his unwrapped cheeseburger tasting the foul tasting substance. The only light in the kitchen was what little light that shone through the windows and through the thick cloud and the dim kitchen light on the ceiling. His dull blue eyes looked up at the clock hanging on the wall, nine forty-two. He took a deep breath before indulging himself in another bite. It was too early for this stuff, no wonder why he already had so many cheeseburgers.

He had eaten these things for a century or two; the taste began to grow bland after the first year or so, eating so many everyday. They were his comfort food at first because he liked them, but now he ate them also to make the other countries think he just loved eating them. It was surprising that he wasn't overweight, but he has fast metabolism and works out a lot. He thought about eating something else that wouldn't leave a horrid after taste in his mouth, but he didn't want to cause any suspicion or draw any unneeded attention. But it was days like today when food couldn't just mend the terrible ache in his heart, he needed to hear one person's voice, _England_. His voice was his last resort; he always had to be careful though. He didn't want to get hurt anymore.

England, oh god how he missed him... Not a day would go by when he didn't pass his mind, and he always wondered if he ever thought of him. But of course he didn't, Arthur hated him. Every time they talked or anything, he could swear to hear the distaste in his voice. It was all because of the American Revolution; it was all because of himself! But of course, who wouldn't hate him after that? But that was not what he was aiming for from that war. Being England's younger brother, he was told what to do all this time and he was so protective. But he didn't want that kind of a relationship. He loved Arthur, no, he was in love with Arthur. He loved everything about the man. His blond hair, his beautiful green eyes, his bushy eyebrows, he was so handsome; but also his personality, he was a gentleman at times, he was so smart and has been through so much, he could get angry but he was cute, and the way he always cooked his food. America always noticed all the little things he does like the way he crosses his legs, or sometimes his eyes even lit up when he talked about certain things.

Alfred opened up another sandwich and began to munch on it. He just wanted Arthur back. Of course now he always scowls and yells at Alfred, he missed his old happy England. But he ruined his chances after the war; it did the opposite of what he wanted! It drove them apart. Alfred was so devastated after this, he wasn't fine, but he acted like he was. Why? Maybe subconsciously He wanted to be England's hero, and the hero is always happy; or maybe it was because he didn't need anyone's sympathy or Arthur, he just wanted Arthur; or maybe it was because of some entirely different thing. He always kept his feelings hidden after that, hiding behind someone else.

In front of everyone else he was a strong country, but he was also childish, innocent, and obnoxious. The perfect cover, no one would notice. But inside, he was actually pretty smart, he could act professional when he wanted to, but he was hurt and afraid. Afraid what everyone would think of him, afraid that people might forget about him, and afraid Arthur would one day stop putting up with him and talking to him and forget him altogether.

Today was a day where everything caught up with him; all the lies he told, the time he hurt England and he just felt so weak. His economic situation wasn't helping very much, or the upcoming elections which made him nervous. But he needed to hear Arthurs voice, or maybe he could invite him over to watch a movie, a scary movie. That would be a good excuse, because he would always act scared and end up close the Arthur while watching the movie. Most of the movies weren't even that scary that he watched, but he had to act afraid of something, right?

His body straightens as he eyes the phone on the table besides all the paperwork and wrappers that were pilled. He hadn't known he had been shaking until he reached forward to grab the phone. He was going to invite him to come over to watch a movie, he might say no, but Alfred just really wanted to hear his voice. His eyes fluttered shut; he figured it was about three for England. Not too late. His eyes were locked at the phone as his figures gripped it with great force. He let out a long breath and entered the only number he was so very familiar with and gently brought it up to his ear.

He heard the phone begin to ring, and he cleared his throat and prepared himself and put all of his thoughts behind him. His hands began to sweat from gripping the phone too tight and he tried to calm down.

"Hello, Arthur here." the most beautiful British accent came through the phone. Alfred smiled, but there was a hint of sadness under it. It was Arthur, someone he could never have. He just wanted Arthur to wrap his arms around him and tell him everything would be okay, he wanted Arthur to know how much he was loved, he wanted to laugh with him; Arthur... Alfred was just so lonely.

"Hello?" Arthur spoke up in case the latter didn't hear him, but Alfred did. He always listens to him. He had just zoned out thinking about him.

"Hey! Yo Artie, what's up!?" he shouted into the phone just like he was like that all the time, like he wasn't lonely, and like he didn't call just to hear his voice.

"How many times do I have to tell you? My names Arthur you git!" Arthur sounded a bit angry, like always, and he wondered if it was all his fault that h was always so angry. He smiled this time but the pain was obvious this time before he changed demeanors again and laughed obnoxiously.

"Whatever you say Iggie!" America shouted back and laughed as he changed it to another nicknamed he hated, but the American had to act childish. "Anyways, wanna come over and watch a movie with me?" Alfred unconsciously sat forward and ran a hand through his hair anxiously waiting for his response.

"Really America? Why the bloody hell do you ask me everytime? Why don't you ask one of your other friends like Japan? You know I have a life unlike you?! I just want to be left alone for once!" Alfred was stunned, he hadn't expected that kind of response from the Brit and not that harsh of a tone. He felt his stomach get uneasy as each word started to set in his head. And fingers that once gripped the phone were now growing weaker with each passing second; infect his who body was. _Ask one of my other friends?_ Japan? He secluded himself after his last visit with him... His brother? He was too scared that his twin would notice something off with him; often, he would pretend he couldn't even see him with the rest of the allies. But he always noticed him and cared about him, but he didn't want a confrontation or to get too close with him. Who else? No one, he was all alone. The only thing he had was Arthur, and that was too far out of reach.

"America," he heard Arthur's soft apologetic voice through the line. "I'm so sorry I-" but I couldn't let him continue, he was on the verge of tears and his hear had been shattered. He needed this conversation to end quickly.

"T-thats alright!" he quickly interrupted him, noticing his mistake he tried to compose himself more. He was America, a big strong country and an innocent childish guy. "The hero never feels bad!" the golden haired man actually believed that statement, and so he had to live up to it. But it didn't help to hold in his emotions which were about to spill over. He could just hear England's voice filled with such hatred when he spoke to him before. So that was how he really felt about him... And Alfred never thought it would hurt this much.

"America?" the blonds voice seemed to be concerned, concerned about what? _No, no, no. He can't find out!_ But he couldn't be concerned about him anyways, right? Either way he had to get out of this situation fast.

"Ah, I'm starving Artie! I have to go, bye!" he quickly shouted the first excuse and hung up. His now weak hands finally gave up and the phone slipped from his hands shattering on the ground. His body next began to lose its battle for strength and he collapsed to the ground in a sobbing mess. He had lost it; all the strength he had, gone. And all because of one man. Was it a sin to love another man this much? It felt like it; all the American got in return for loving him was just getting pushed back, getting hurt. Why was it so hard?

His once bright innocent blue eyes that held so much happiness were so different now, what would his younger self think of him now? What would _England_ think of him? Now dull blue pained eyes saw nothing but blurs as tears still spilt furiously. As if his hands were covered in blood he stared at them furiously, but then his hands soon went to his head. He was so hurt, he just wanted Arthur, but he hated Alfred so much. A scream ripped through the air, it was so pained; the most heart wrenching noise anyone could have ever heard. The supposedly strong powerful nation sat there in tears rocking himself back and forth.

"England." he let the name slip a couple of times in between his tears. It was like he was cursed. Could you imagine being so close to the person you loved and cared for the most, but they didn't like you back. But no, that was only part of the curse; he had to live with this situation longer than anyone. Most humans can't live over a hundred years, they couldn't understand, and Alfred's love was undying. Do you know how many normal peoples lifetimes he's went through? It would be absolutely horrible to go through this.

He used to think that he could actually be helped. He believed in his people as he went to new doctors every year or less trying to find a solution to his problem. Each doctor he went to really tried to help him, and he tried to believe them, but none ever found a solution to help him. He had tried at least a thousand different solutions and many different kinds of medicines. He tried anti depressants, post traumatic stress disorder, anxiety, and multiple personality disorder; just anything that he thought could possible work. But who could help a country? No one. It has been a couple years since he tried to get help, he had given up. But he still tried some of the pills when he felt like this, he already took one today.

He slowly stood up, almost collapsing a few times. He stood there swaying lightly trying to gain control of his body. But it only took a few seconds before a wave of anger hit him.

"How could you be so stupid!?" screaming to himself his arms whipped across the table clearing the contents on it. Papers floated throughout the air and dishes shattered across the floor, the kitchen now covered in paper and glass. The distressed man squeezed his eyes shut as to shut out the world and his hands flew to his hair as he squeezed it and screamed as if it would all be better soon. Of course it did nothing to comfort him.

"God damnit," he yelled again and looked around the kitchen to see all of the damage. He tried to wipe the saltwater from his eyes to see but his eyes refused to let that happen as more tears fell from his eyes.

"Pills," he murmured as he got sight of the living room door, he needed to get to the bathroom. He tried to steady himself as he tried to make it to the living room stepping over all the glass and paper on the floor.

_You know I have a life unlike you_

_Words_, too many words were echoing through his head, all the hurtful things that England said. As the American tried to make his way towards the living room he winced as they went through his head, each time adding more weight he was under. He was shaking; this was too much for his frail mind.

Although the living room was messy from the lack of cleaning, it was still in much better shape than the kitchen; for now. It only took a couple of seconds being in the carpeted room for him to lose control again. It was like everything was finally catching up with him and forcing too much pain on him at once. It took one more taunt, and his fist moved instinctively into the wall. He looked at the wall and removed his fist not caring that he had just busted through the wall.

Fresh blood leaked from his hand, but he didn't care. It was like nothing else mattered anymore; he never felt this alone before. What was there to care about? The Lovely British man he fell for didn't like him; and right now, that's all that mattered.

"Of course he doesn't like you!" he felt a bitter smile form on his lips and a cold chuckle came, it was so unbecoming on him. _Of course he doesn't like you_. He felt so hurt inside, _Oh Arthur…_

He let out a moan of frustration as he took it out on all the items in the room. Many things were thrown off tables, some broken items were shattered on the floor; things were all astray in the more than messy living room.

"I need those fucken pills!" He groaned and his hand gripped his head. His head pounded and he felt it getting worse by the second; not only that but his stomach wasn't feeling too well either. He wasn't supposed to feel this way, what happened to the 'great and powerful' nation? Honestly, he didn't really know himself. He just thought it was England, but there were other problems going on in his country that affected him too.

He slowly started to climb the stairs, clinging to railing like it was the only thing had left. Although the railing was practically the only thing supporting his body, he slowly made his way up. Stumbling over his feet once and a while and almost collapsing a couple times, it was quite impressive at he actually made it.

As he reached the top, he felt it. His hand flew to his stomach, as if that did anything, and he tried to run to the small guest bathroom. He shoved open the door and quickly knelt down putting his face in the toilet. But as soon as he did the sensation went away. His fists clenched and he forced his eyes shut, _oh god, I'm in so much pain. Help me.. _Not even closing his eyes could stop the tears, down his face they went. _Drop_. He heard the first of his many tears fall into the toilet as the pace of the drops because quicker and heaver. Hands relaxing, he brought them to his face rubbing his eyes furiously. His face, was so damp. Heavy with tears. He was such a failure, his mind flashed quickly to some occasions.

"Oh god." He sobbed desperately "I'm a murderer!" So many people he killed, even innocent people. People with families! Good people! He shook his head. "No, no. No." he mumbled. _I deserve this. Every single thing. _He finally realized why all his life was hard. Why the only person he loved hated him. Why he never got any love from anyone. Why he was so _alone_.

His body was heavy with all the realization of everything, but it somehow was able to get him up on both feet again. His hands clenched the edge of the sink as he tried to regain his strength to stand. His hand went up to open the cabinet, but then he saw it. The most disgusting thing ever, it was something that no one should know, it was so repulsive, a waste of space! He visibly grew tense and a fist quickly flew to it. The mirror instantly shattered, the reflection distorted and damaged. He drew his fist back as his body started to shake and stay at an uneven pace.

He quickly opened the cabinet, and looked at the many pill that littered the shelves. He started to dig through them, knocking some into the sink while doing so. 'Anti-depressant' he opened the bottle and took a couple before digging in the cabinet for more. Did he even need them? He didn't even deserve to be here, why should he try to help himself? He grabbed some other different kinds of pills as he took a couple of each. Can countries die? If he took enough pills, could he? He was taken more than he had before, this many would kill a human, what about him? He let out a chilling laugh, he was starting to get tired. He took his last group of pills before he decided to go to bed.

He slowly walked himself to his room, not even bothering to turn the bathroom light off, not that it mattered to him either. He looked at his bed, all made for him to sleep and he just passed out on the bed.

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Thank you for reading and please critique! I would love that because it's my first ff and it would encourage me. Have a nice day!


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome back! I'm very sorry it took so long! Sandy, and stuff happened! D:

**If you read the first chapter before like 11/11/12? Please read it again I wrote the entire thing all over again, and maybe you could say what you like better about it?**

Anyways, sorry it's not very good and short.. Rest of notes will be at the bottom

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Nightmares are a horrible thing to experience, Your mind twisting things and betrays yourself as it bring horrible images and words to you. Alfred was a pitiful sight as he laid there on the messy bed wincing once and groaning in his sleep, and often he would weakly yell out things like 'help me' or 'Arthur'; sleeping didn't even stop the tears as his pillow was even soaked. He was trapped in the repeated painful memories that played all over in his mind and it was torture to his weak soul.

The first thing that brought him to stir was a voice. His body moved slightly a sign he was waking up, his fingers grazing along the smooth grass. He was lying on his stomach somehow, his limbs outstretched. His head was lifted from the soft ground and his eyes slowly open, the sun shone brightly today forcing him to squint if he opened his eyes. The first thing his eyes caught was the grass. He was lying on the grass, he could tell now, he really was outside. The nice fresh air brought a nice smell to his nose and swept lightly across his body slightly rustling his clothes and hair. How did he get outside? He glanced up to see exactly where he was, but then he saw a pair of feet? Eyes adjusted, he opened them all the way to see who was the figure in front of him was. Their eyes met and Alfred gasped slightly when he saw who was standing there.

"Come on, it's time to go home." The British man spoke smoothly with a smile, his hand outstretched to the other. It was Arthur. Arthur was there, right in front of him. What was he doing here; why was he here for America? Well what was America doing there too? England had such a beautiful smile on his face too, it was so beautiful on his face. Like it belonged there, and it always should. But his face is usually covered by a scowl around the American, he just wanted to make him smile. Although the man lying on the ground gaping at Arthur was happy to see him like that, he was confused.

"Arthur." He whispered still shocked that he was here, right in front of him. This felt odd, maybe somewhat familiar. He pressed his hand on the ground lifting part of his top half off the ground to examine his surroundings. It was all so familiar, no wait, no wonder why it was so familiar... He had been here when he was very small, when England first found him all alone... The American looked back to meet the others eyes and then studied his hand debating if whether or not he should inverse himself in this old memory he had. But it was England, he just wanted to see him again; and he was smiling. He hesitantly reached out his hand and embraced the others hand and he quickly stood up with the help of the other. Alfred could only stand a second before he went to hug him. Arms we about to be wrapped around England for a hug but before he did, England disappeared, and hands that were meant for a beautiful embrace only swiped through the air catching no one in them. Alfred stumbled forward a bit and quickly looked around for the person who disappeared.

He was alone again, like always. But he only had a couple seconds to dwell on those thoughts before he got a pain in his head and his vision swirled. He almost fell off his feet but it quickly went away as soon as it came. As soon as he stood up straight and could concentrate on his vision, the first thing he saw was England.

"No! No! I won't let you go back!" A voice echoed, it sounded oddly like his. He looked confused, until he realized he realized his fists were clenching a jacket, it was England's jacket. Arthur looked gloomily at him, and then it clicked, it was when he was about to leave. Even if this was a memory, he didn't want him to leave, he just wanted him here. He just wanted to hug him, to let him know that he really did care! He wished Arthur was always like this, he was so kind and caring… He felt his eyes getting watery, and they quickly soon feel. He didn't know what was going on, he wanted help. Maybe this England could help.

"Arthur! Take me back home…." He squeezed his shirt tighter, knuckles turning white, and leaned his forehead on Arthur's nice warm chest. Alfred was so desperate; he was stuck in these painful memories. "I'm scared." He said it, he heard his voice; he brought up something that was so dug inside. He just needed help right now. Why were these memories coming back, he didn't want them; he just wanted out. "Arthur, please..." He mumbled before removing his head to face the British man and looked him in the eyes, those beautiful emerald eyes. He had tears streaming down his face, he didn't ever want to know how he looked, and this England wouldn't remember him. It was hard, but he said those words he was so desperate to get out "Help me."

"I'm sorry. I've had that experience too, so I understand how you feel." Arthur spoke very apologetically looking Alfred in the eyes. What? That's not what he meant when he said he needed help, unless-

"Can you even hear me!?" Alfred shouted at him, his voice distorted and cracked from crying. He released his jacket and pushed him away, he had to get away. Looking at England angrily, Alfred realized he was still staring at where he was just standing. He hadn't even been fazed by what happened. _England, help me_. He just wanted to cry out to the other who was just standing there, motionless, but it was useless. It couldn't be altered. He was stuck in his memories and nothing could be done, he couldn't get help, he couldn't get out, nothing. He didn't want to stand there and hear him again, he remember it too well.

He was so broken when England left; he loved him and was just going to leave like that? He was left with so many emotions; confused, angry, sad, he didn't understand why he went. He went to his room and cried for a while. He was all alone in the big house and the only person who mattered to him, wasn't there. It was hard on him as a little kid. He didn't want to experience this again, it hurt too much. But instead he turned around and ran as fast as his legs could take him.

He could still hear voices from various memories from different parts of his life. Every time he blinked he saw a scene from a memory near him, most of them just him and England… He squinted his eyes not wanting to see all this stuff and his hands were on his ears trying to block out all the voices from the memories. It was useless though; the voices were still loud and clear, echoing like they were inside his head.

"England, help me!" He screamed with all his might, it was too much for him. He just wanted out, out of this painful dream he was stuck in. But he put too much effort into yelling; his feet stumbled over each other as he fell to the ground with a splash. It was silent, he felt water falling onto his body, clothes slowly getting drenched from absorbing the drops that fell. He was lying in water too; he felt so horrible; his limbs were tired and weak, his head throbbing from the painful memories and now he was soaked to the bone. Was he done? Was it over? He peaked open his eyes to find the exact opposite of what he wanted to see.

"No, no, no, no!" He mumbled but his voice escalated quickly as his eyes widened to see the scene in front of him, the memory that haunted him for a long time. He quickly scrambled up, hands splashing in the mud trying to push himself up, he was falling apart. He had to try to save them, he couldn't just let himself ruin his life! He ran up to himself, he was dressed in uniform and his angry gaze was pointed at England.

"Please don't do this! Apologize! You're going to ruin everything that matters!" He yelled to himself, maybe he could stop him. His voice slowly got quieter as he talked. "No one likes you as it is; now you'll have no one if you do this! Think about it you ass, you're so stupid! Show him that you care, tell him how you fell before it's too late. You don't deserve to be here…" He spoke his feelings while yelling at his younger self and didn't realize how hard he was crying till now. Next to him heard the sound, the sound of Arthur falling…

"Arthur!" He quickly kneeled next to the soldier who just lost. His arms wrapped around him as his tears rolled off his face onto his already soaked shirt. "I love you." He mumbled into his ear as he hugged the man tighter, he didn't ever want to let the man go, not the person he loved. He didn't want anything but him. He was so sorry. He was so stupid. Why did he hurt him!? The source he was leaning on slowly disappeared, along with the painful surroundings. He regained his balance before realizing, he was all alone. Why was he always like this?

"Alfred!" his eyes shot open at the voice and is body quickly recoiled as he brought his knees to his chest, he got as small as he could. He felt his face was soaked, he must have been crying because of his dream. His eyes were opened, but they were rejected from his mind. He didn't want to face reality, but he also didn't want to face his memories. It was like he was trapped only with his thoughts. His head was laid on his soaked pillow, so many tears and he was snuggled under the blankets. But he felt cold, so numb; like nothing was happening but he hurt. His heart was so heavy; couldn't he just stay here and never move? Maybe he would eventually rot away.

_No wonder why Arthur hates me!_ His mind and heart hurt so badly right now. His body felt odd, it was an odd sensation, and he didn't know how to describe it. But did it really matter? Maybe something was wrong with him, good. Maybe he _had _overdosed. Nothing mattered to him right now, no one cared about him, he hurt the people he cared about, and he even killed so many people. He just wanted to be somewhere else, he didn't deserve England, and he didn't even deserve to be his own country! What if he merged with another country? Would he fade? He just wanted to get away.

Soon he would just be going to a world meeting like this never happened. He would act like everything is alright. Just like every single day. Fake smiles, putting on an act, he just has to regain control of his emotions a little better, right? But-but he didn't even deserve the right to do that... He should just wither away, like everything else.

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Wow guys, thank you all for the faves and the follows and especially the critiques. This story is going somewhere else than I intended it, so I'm not sure if it will be good and stuff^^'

Thank you all for reading3

To the reviewers: Thank you SOOO much for the tips and stuff! 3 wow you guys really encouraged me, and like, I really didn't even think I was good... thank you, thank you, thank you. And no, sorry. Tony won't appear. And actually next chapter will be from arthurs pov.

Have a wonderful day everyone!


	3. IM SOO SORRY FOR THIS STUPID CHAPTER

Guys I'm so sorry! Especially coming down to making this chapter. I'm usually not a big fan of chapters like this... But I just want to explain.

First off, it's been a while, I know. But I will finish this eventually... I've just have so much going on, like 3 deaths, the two weren't that bad, but the third was someone I really looked up to... (2p france blog) anyways.. Yeah, so that has affected me a lot. And then the holidays, and I'm still working on someones present cause I want it to be perfect BUT I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO GET HER. /cries So yes, sorry for the lack of updates, I have no idea when I'll get the chance to update because schools pretty hard and I'm totally not addicted to tumblr. but yeah. Sorry. And you guys don't have to leave reviews or whatever, if you want to say something message me. Thank you/

So yes, sorry for updating and I'm not sure when I'll be able to update.

And so sorry for making this nonstory informative chapter! D: Hope you have a nice day


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